


It's just a bad life

by shanimalew



Series: Fictober 2019 [20]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Bad Days, Depression, Drabble, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fictober 2019, Gen, M/M, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 12:20:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21118697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shanimalew/pseuds/shanimalew
Summary: Sometimes bad days take over, sometimes what works for someone doesn't work for someone else. Aziraphale really wants to help, but how can you help someone who doesn't want it? Doesn't think he deserves it?[Fictober 2019, Day 20]





	It's just a bad life

**Author's Note:**

> This can be seen as a sequel of 'It's just a bad day...' but it's a stand-alone so it's not necessary to have read the other one.

**Day 20: “You could talk about it, you know?”**

Aziraphale considers himself an expert in understanding Crowley, after having known him for so many millennia. He knows what he likes, what he hates and what he pretends to like just because he’s a demon. 

He can understand just by looking at him when he’s happy, stressed or when he’s having one of his crazy ideas that will surely inconvenience both of them later. And, most important, he can read between his words. He mastered the art of hearing what Crowley’s saying and understanding what he really means, because 90% of what Crowley wants to say is never said out loud, and he understood this even more after the Apocalypse-that-wasn’t and their living together.

Crowley never says ‘I love you’ but he screams it with everything he does. When he gets up before Aziraphale and makes cocoa for him, when his roses are particularly beautiful and Aziraphale finds one on his side of the bed. Crowley is someone who, despite his nature and what he wants everyone to believe, loves and feels everything with such intensity that sometimes it even overwhelms Aziraphale, who was created for that.

So, when he sees Crowley enter the kitchen slouchy and make himself coffee without even acknowledge Aziraphale, it’s to say the least the angel knows it’s a bad day. And judging by how he slowly makes his shoulders move, as if assessing if he still has wings, it's one of the tough ones.

Crowley sits down in front of Aziraphale, takes the journal lying on the table and starts reading it.

Although he has already his sunglasses on, another sign since it’s been years since he wore sunglasses in their house, he can see his eyes roaming mindlessly on the page; he waits patiently for the demon to say something.

“Did you see this article about the benefits of butter? Af if mere years ago they didn’t think it was the worst thing they could eat...humans are really something else” it’s what Crowley says, leaving Aziraphale perplexed.

The demon continues commenting journal articles until he gets up, declaring it’s time to see how his plants are doing. All without really looking at Aziraphale or waiting for him to talk back.

He needs to clarify. Over the millennia he has become an expert in understanding Crowley, however, he still has to master the art of gently nudging him into open up.

Every time he tried in the past he got various reactions, and never those he wanted. Most of the time the demon avoids the questions, by running away, changing the topic or blatantly lying to his face. Other times, rarer, he tells something, just a piece. Just enough for Aziraphale to get curious and for him to satisfy his century-long need to open up.

But Aziraphale is determined to make him talk, not because he wants to know everything about Crowley, although being his longest friend and now partner makes him want to learn everything he can about him, but because he just wants Crowley to be at peace, even for just a night. The demon does so much for him, trying to help him bear the weight of his feelings is the least he can do.

So he follows Crowley to the little garden they have at the back of the house. He leans against the door and watches him.

The demon is seated among various vases, head bent weirdly on a leaf.

“Oh, so today we are feeling rebellious?! Very nice. Do you know what happens to rebellious plants? They get punished! And thrown away! Do you want to be thrown away?” He shouts, looking around with, Aziraphale doesn’t have a doubt, maniac eyes. 

The plants around him tremble.

“Good, glad we can understand each other. So when I say ‘no spots, no broken leafs’ it’s because that’s what I want! When I come back I want to see you all making an effort in being perfect!” he screams one last time, getting up. 

However, he jumps when he sees Aziraphale.

“I didn’t hear you back there, angel. Wanted something? I was going to get a drink”

“It’s 10 in the morning, dear. Don’t you think you can at least wait a couple of hours?”

“It’s night in Japan” He says, moving Aziraphale away and getting inside.

“I was feeling like walking. Maybe we can go to the beach” Aziraphale tries.

“Need to watch the plants, otherwise they will slack off”

“Perhaps they need to rest for a little bit…”

“And this is why you’re not allowed to go near them” Crowley replies, pointing his now full glass to highlight his words.

Aziraphale huffs, feeling his patience dissolve. So much for gently nudging him…

“You could talk about it, you know?” he asks, still keeping a good distance from Crowley, just so the demon doesn’t feel like he’s trapped in this conversation.

“About what?” Crowley says, straightening his back and looking directly in Aziraphale’s eyes, defiantly.

“About what’s bothering you. What makes you feel this depressed”

“Nothing’s…” Crowley starts, but the rest of his sentence dies as he sees the stare Aziraphale sends his way. He rolls his eyes. “Angel, please”

“I’m just telling you that if something’s bothering you you can talk to me. Talking about it will help you feel better”

“Except that if I tell you I don’t want to talk you look at me like I killed lots of puppies. Not everyone likes to share everything, you know?”

“Like and need are different things. Sometimes what you like is not what you need”

“Don’t you think I know it? Or you think I secretly enjoy feeling like crap? But I can’t be like you want me to, I can’t open up. Like how you can’t stop eating cinnamon rolls even though you know that after four you’re going to feel sick” he says, sitting down. “I feel the whole speech form inside my head but when I look at you the words just...don't come. No matter how much pep talk I give myself, I always end up avoiding the topic, so please this time let’s skip the whole part when you want me to talk and I avoid the questions until either I win and you’re sad or you win and let’s just enjoy a nice Sunday”

“But it won’t be a nice day if you are suffering in silence”

“I don’t suffer in silence, I’m trying to keep living my bloody life as if this pain I feel doesn’t exist. Because truth be told, I’m tired of feeling like this every single bloody day. So when it gets like it’s impossible to bear it’s when I want to fight it, so I do what I do every day as if I don't want to stop existing. So please, just forget about it and keep reading that book you were excited about” Crowley says exasperated.

Aziraphale feels the most useless angel on the planet, but he complies, taking the book from the table and silently going to his favourite armchair in the living room. He knows when to fight, and today's not the day, no matter how much he wants to.

After a while Crowley comes out of the kitchen, empty-handed, and looks in Aziraphale’s direction.

“I know your intentions are pure, but sometimes letting it go is the best strategy. I’m sorry I can’t be how you want me to be, but if it’s any consolation it’s always positive to be reminded that you’re here, ready to have a heart-to-heart” Crowley says, making a small, sad smile. He goes towards the backdoor but Aziraphale’s words stop him.

“You are precisely how I want you to be” the angel says, eyes wet from trying to keep his tears from falling. He doesn’t like seeing Crowley like this, no matter how many times it has already happened, and he doesn’t like witnessing it without being able to do something to alleviate his pain.

“Then I’m sorry” Crowley replies, going in the garden.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for another very angsty fic, I know this challenge should be about fluffy drabbles but sometimes the story wants to go somewhere else. Hope you liked it, leave kudos and comment if you did!


End file.
